


In Which Penelope Doesn't Follow the Rules

by Criminal_Blinds (IronicAppreciation)



Series: The Blood of the Covenant is Thicker Than the Water of the Womb [3]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cute, Fluff, Gen, I LOVED WRITING THIS ONE, pure fluff, that's literally it - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 19:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17925320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronicAppreciation/pseuds/Criminal_Blinds
Summary: Derek's coming back to school today, after a solid week spent in the E.R. nursing a football injury, and Penelope's more than ready to take on her self-proclaimed role as his in-school nurse for however long he might need it--whether he likes it or not.However, it turns out the job might be a little bit more than she bargained for.





	In Which Penelope Doesn't Follow the Rules

_ “Derek Morgan _ , as I live and breathe.” 

Penelope smiles so wide it hurts her cheeks, and Derek grins that dazzlingly bright grin of his right back at her with a chuckle, and all of a sudden, the world is  _ that much _ lighter and sweeter. 

Derek’s left leg is incarcerated in a plaster cast from the shin down and he’s teetering precariously on crutches, but that doesn’t stop Penelope from tackling him in an all-enveloping embrace and nearly knocking him down with the sheer momentum of her unbridled affection.

“ _ Woah,  _ Sugar,” the words stumble out of his perfect mouth, and Penelope snorts at the endearing pet name, picking her head up off his chiseled chest to look up into those beautiful brown eyes. He laughs at her, again, smooth as syrup, and the entire universe feels warm and cozy like a blanket and fireplace in the dead of winter. “You keep up like this and you’re gonna break my  _ other  _ leg.”

Penelope unlatches herself from his torso and wordlessly grabs his bags so he can walk easier, striding alongside him at a slow enough pace that his wobbly gait can keep up with the omnipresent pep in her step. He mutters a quiet _‘thank you’_ , which she ignores, because she’s always ardently subscribed to the belief that thanks between friends are wholly unnecessary.

“So it’s a break, then? The doctors said that it’s broken?” She makes the turn in the hall towards the math building, in the opposite direction of her own first period class, and Derek is so focused on getting accustomed to moving with the support of the crutches that he fails to notice that they’ve passed right by her classroom.  _ Point 1: Penelope. _

He shakes his head, leaning to the right and grimacing. For a kid who’s broken nearly every bone in his body at least once, walking on one foot certainly seems to be consuming an awful lot of his effort. “Nah,” he says as they weave their way through the sea of lowerclassmen thronging the hallways--the bell must’ve  _ just  _ rung--“just a hairline fracture in my tibia.”

Penelope frowns. “Sweet thing, that anatomy jargon means next to nothing to me. Is that the fat leg bone or the skinny one?”

Derek laughs, “the fat one, Baby Girl.”

Inhaling sharply through her teeth, Penelope flashes a sympathetic glance at her friend’s wrecked foot and winces imperceptibly--it’s the same brand of unsolicited worry he’s been getting from his mother and sisters for the past forty-eight hours, and he’s damn sick of it. Derek rolls his eyes. 

“Baby,  _ stop  _ that.”

“I’m sorry, sugar,” Penelope tears her gaze away from the cast and looks up at him with big, entreating green eyes and a pitiful smile. “It’s just that, you  _ know  _ how I hate seeing my friends hurting, because when I do, then  _ I  _ start hurting, and it’s just this horrible, awful,  _ endless _ cycle of hurt, and--” 

_ “Penelope.” _

Derek stifles the stream of unrestricted thought catapulting from her lips by placing both of his hands firmly on her shoulders, sacrificing a bit of the balance he’s been working so hard to cultivate in order to get through to her. Her haggard breathing seems to even out a little, and panic ebbs out of her soft features like the warmth that comes from a car’s radiator on a particularly chilly day: Palpable. Almost  _ tangible.  _

“I’m  _ not _ hurting. Not anymore. It’s just a stupid inconvenience. You don’t gotta worry about me.”

Penelope shakes her head vehemently, and shrugs his hands away, starting to walk just a little bit faster. 

“No, but see, I  _ do.  _ I do have to worry about you, Derek, because I  _ care _ about you, and you  _ know  _ that I care about people harder than anyone else in the whole entire world.”

She turns on him fervently, her backpack almost smacking one of the poor passing freshmen in the face. 

“You  _ do  _ know that, don’t you?”

Derek lets out a gruff little chuckle and hobbles forward, a smile tugging subtly at his lips.

“Oh, believe me, honey. I sure as hell do.” 

Penelope nods, satisfied, and readjusts Derek’s things in her arms.

“Good.  _ Good. _ ”

She continues her march towards Derek’s class, and, even though they’re in the upperclassmen’s corridor now, she carries herself with such confidence and poise that the only stares she attracts are those of befuddlement at her almost blindingly bright attire and the cacophony of colorful barrettes in her hair. For a ninth grader, she does a damn good job of never flinching under the scrutiny of bratty, entitled seniors. 

“Then, don’t come for me with all your  _ don’t worry  _ bullshit,” she presses onward, frowning slightly to herself, “you ought to know better.”

“Alright,” Derek concedes to her admonishing tone, having had enough experience living in a house full of girls to know how unwise it is to challenge a woman who’s upset in the middle of her spiel. “My bad.”

“Yes,” Penelope agrees, “yes it  _ is _ your bad.”

They make it to Derek’s calc class just before the tardy bell rings, and Penelope  _ knows  _ her teacher is going to throw a bitchfit when she walks into class late, but she can’t very well bring herself to care.

Unfortunately, Derek realizes this too, just as he’s heading into class. He turns on her as she reaches forward to open the door for him. 

_ “Penelope Garcia!” _

Penelope jumps a bit and almost drops her things. She turns to look at him quizzically, hand still curled around the doorknob. 

“What?”

Derek narrows his eyes at her.

“Don’t you play dumb with me. You know what you did!”

She huffs innocuously.

“I have  _ no idea  _ what you’re talking about.”

Penelope presses her shoulder against the door and begins to turn the handle, only for Derek’s hand to fall briskly over hers, keeping her from getting the door open. 

_ (And as much as she appreciates the gesture of affection, she can’t help but feel that his holding her hand at this particular moment in time possesses some ulterior motives.) _

Surprised and a little affronted, she glances at him with raised eyebrows.

“Do you  _ mind?”  _ She says, annoyed. Derek rolls his eyes at her, but doesn’t move his hand.

“Yeah, I do,  _ actually. _ ” He searches her face for an admission of guilt, and, finding none, goes on. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice that we passed  _ right by your class?” _

Penelope blinks, and, within seconds, her rosy pink cheeks turn a bright tomato red. Blinking repeatedly, she averts her gaze, suddenly extremely engrossed in her own two feet.

“Ohhhhh,  _ yeah _ , I, umm--” she clears her throat, and, keeping her eyes glued to the ground, swallows thickly. 

“I was kinda hoping you would just... _ not _ ...bring that up?” Her voice lilts  _ manipulatively _ at the end of her half-assed defense in a sort of unspoken plea, and she looks up at him for less than a moment, her eyes wide and deceptively sweet. She tacks on an extra sugary smile for good measure, and makes damn sure to play the part of the well-meaning, gullible freshman sweetheart as best she can. 

Derek isn’t fooled for a minute. 

“Get that guilty ass smile off your face before you sprain something,” he says, and then laughs, because even though he can smell the bullshit wafting off of Penelope’s saccharine demeanor like a hound dog, he’s also  _ weak,  _ and she just so happens to be his kryptonite. 

He can’t stay mad at her. 

She puts on a pout and he’s all but  _ gone.  _

“Oh, don’t be like  _ that _ ,” he takes her by the arm and tugs her away from the door. “C’mon, if you really don’t care about getting to class on time,” he gives her a quick once-over and shakes his head fondly, “and,  _ clearly,  _ you don’t--what d’ya say we just skip altogether?”

Penelope gapes at him, no longer feigning the shock sketched out across her face.

“You mean, like, ditch? Ditch _school?”_ Her eyes bulge and her mouth hangs open as she struggles to process her friend’s borderline _lawless_ suggestion. “We’re gonna get in so much trouble!”

Derek  _ smirks _ \--full on  _ smirks  _ at her--and nudges her shoulder gently, already turning his crutches away from the classroom. 

“Yeah. And?”

Slowly but surely, a smile creeps its way onto Penelope’s face, lifting the corners of her mouth and drawing crinkles against her eyes. She steps in time with him, linking their arms together at the elbow. 

“Derek Morgan,” she grins, “I like how you think.”

The hallways are empty now, as they make their way arm in arm out the back door and through an opening in the far side of the chain link fence that marks the boundary between the school and the acre of unclaimed property that rests just beyond its backyard, teeming with weeds and unkempt trees. Derek hijacks Desiree’s car--

_ (Which is only somewhat illegal, seeing as he does have his permit and the car technically still belongs to his mother, meaning he’s allowed to drive it) _

\--and the two of them blast sugary radio pop at an unholy volume all the way to the Sonic Drive-Thru, then sit in the school parking lot sipping milkshakes and catching up on the days they lost while Derek was stuck in the E.R. for nearly an hour. When they make it back inside just in time for second period, they’re both awarded a session of after-school detention for their troubles. 

It’s worth it, though, Penelope thinks. She gets the feeling that she’d be significantly less pleased with the way her day played out had she not rightfully earned that damningly justified detention. 

And, after getting home to her seething stepparents after the events of that  _ fateful  _ afternoon, she’s completely sure she made the right call. 

**Author's Note:**

> Criticisms? Compliments? COMMENT! (pls!!!)


End file.
